What's with Tim?
by braen
Summary: Robin is not been acting like himself lately and Superboy is worried. But how can he help someone that does not want to see his own problem?


I.-

It had been a tough mission, one that made some of their Young Justice fights seem like a walk through the park. Since they joined the titans battles had turned darker and riskier, so had turned them, somehow. Life was no more just fun and jokes when you grew up, and sometimes it made Kon'el wish he had never found a way to do so. Sometimes. Growing up had also its good things, like being able to think about something else than yourself... well, about something else than yourself, girls and parties. Something like friends, to put just an easy example.

And he was not the only one to have spotted something going really bad all over Tim in battle. Cassie have told him to go and talk to their friend.

"It's maybe a boys thing", she had told him.

So, it figured...

Kon coughed lightly when he arrived where Tim was checking his tools and gadgets. Probably he was the only one to do so before even having a shower. Well, him, Nitghwing and Batman. But it was creepier in a sixteen-year-old.

Tim turned to him.

-Hi, kid. Is something wrong?

-Er... Why must be something wrong?

-Well, for one, you coughed -Tim smiled simpathetically-. And you look definitively nervous, so something is wrong. Can I help?

Kon coughed again.

-It's that... well... Cassie thinks...

-Cassie?

-Well,_ I _think that there was something wrong this morning during the battle.

-Really? Did I make any mistake? -Tim seemed startled.

-No, no... You were great. Awesome, really.

-Then?

-Is everything all right?

-Don't know, you tell me -Tim didn't even frown... not that he could see under the mask-. You are the ones having trouble with me doing my job the best I can, not me.

-Oh, come on, Tim...

-Robin.

-What? -Kon was taken aback.

-You keep calling me Tim, and I would thank if you stopped doing so.

-Oh, man, if you are afraid I would spoil it and call you so in the middle of a battle...

-Like you never do to Kid flash, or Wondergirl, or Cyborg...

-It's diferent, they don't care.

-Well, I _do_ care.

The conversation was taking a weird developement and Kon was feeling a little awkward.

-Ok, _Robin_... -Superboy sighed-. About today's battle...

-Let me guess: You feel uncomfortable because I managed most of the situation today and you think I was too focused in the battle to be sane.

-Er...

-You were going to tell me so.

-Well, yes. You used more words than I would have, but... yes.

-I've been training and I guess I wanted to show off, that's all -Tim smiled, but again the mask didn't let Kon read his eyes, so, somehow, he didn't buy it.

-Ok -he said, nontheless-. But next time... relax.

-I promise.

-Well...

-Settled, then? Because, if you don't care, I have to take a shower.

-Yeah... settled -mumured him as he watched Robin walk away.

He sensed this conversation had been far more important than it seemed, but he lacked the ability to make words work his way as Tim did.

Something was wrong with Tim and he had to find someone to work it out. Because sometimes being Super wasn't enough.

II.-

He knew where to look for the Boy Wonder, so he wasn't at all surprised to find him in his own training field, exercising like mad. The kid had always been a little resentful about not having their strengh and reflexes, but he though they had had it solved with their talk about his brains and his mighty inteligence. It all apeared that he had been mistaken.

Well, you never knew what was in a teenager head.

Dick Grayson watched the kid practice with a chill, realizing that, in a pair of years, at any rate, Tim was going to be able to beat them all.

Eventually, he seemed to realize he was being watched and he stopped suddenly with a pair of flicks that led him to stand right besides him.

-Dick! -He said as he landed with a smile-. Want to jump a little? Perhaps finally I can beat you in a race.

Nightwing looked at the training field and felt he wasn't sure as if to raise a bet against him.

-No, not today -he said, finally-, I've come to talk, if you have some time for me.

-Sure.

The boy led him to a restroom, where he ofered his half-mentor a can of coke. Dick took it while he thought about a way to start a conversation. It would have been easier, he realized, if Tim hadn't worn his mask.

-You should be at High School -he managed to say without feeling stupid-. You know, learning, making friends...

-Loosing time?

"Yeah, that too", he thought. But it was not the point.

-High school is not that bad, and, you know, socializing is a good thing.

-Funny remark, coming from you -there was a sneer in the kid's face.

-I did at your age - "Yes, Dick, great reflexes there. Now ask for a candy".

-Well, people always says I'm way too mature for my age.

-Tim, don't play the "I'm-too-smart-for-you" with me -Dick decided to be straight, it was going to be easier with the damned kid-. I've come because I'm worried. You are acting strange lately.

Tim frowned.

-Does Superboy have anything to do with this?

-No, why should him?

-Yeah, whatever -Tim seemed not to belive him-. I've told him I'm ok. And I will tell you the same.

-Now tell me without the mask if you want me to belive you.

His frown deepenned, but he took his mask off nontheless. His blue eyes stared at him fixedly.

-I'm ok -he said, defiantly.

-Yeah? Who is ok? Is Tim ok? Or is Robin? I would like to know who I am talking to.

The boy half laughed.

-You are making no sense.

-Oh, I think I've hit the question. Robin is ok, isn't he? He is faster, he is stronger than he has ever been, and nearly noone can outwit him. But what about Tim?

-What about Tim?

-Are you really going to bury him?

Tim looked at him incredously.

-What are you talking about?

-You know what I'm talking about. You have left school, you have isolated yourself here, far from everything... you are wearing your mask at home, for god's sake! You don't have a life!

-I do -the boy didn't even flinch.

-No, _Robin_ has a life.

-Your point being? I'm not diferent from you or Batman, _Nightwing_.

-Don't be mistaken. Bruce and I have lifes besides our vigilante costume.

The kid burst into laughing, but it wasn't an amused one.

-Fool you, if you want, ex-boy wonder, but don't try to fool me. I'm smarter, remember? Bruce Wayne is just a character and you know it as well as I do. And Dick Grayson... I don't think you really know what Dick actually is for you but a name in you I.D. -His voice lowered as his rage seemed to leave him-. Ok, I don't want to play Tim Drake anymore. So what? I'm just being honest with myself and with the world instead of inventing a lie and spreading it.

-It don't have to be necesarily a lie -Dick dared put a hand in the kids shoulder, incapable of finding words to his feelings. It was hard to face bare and naked facts.

-Yes, it has. Anything will be a show.

-Why? Just because...? -Dick remembered to bite his tongue in time.

The boy rejected his hand, looking at him directly in the eyes.

-You can say it aloud, Dick -he said, angrily-. Yes, just because my father is dead. And no, not just because he is dead, but Stephanie too.

-And what about Dana?

-She doesn't need Tim.

-Are you sure?

He didn't answer, just stared at the mask in his hand. Finally, he let it on a table with a snort. Then he turned his back and set off to the training field. Dick followed, unsure of how to treat him after his blast.

When they arrived, the boy stopped, waiting for the first Robin to catch him up.

-Ok, Dick. You are being Sherlock here. You know why all of this? -He said, waving his hand, covering the wide range of his training field.

-To be stronger, of course.

-Of course -Tim stepped forward, giving Dick his back.-. You know? I always knew I was diferent from you and Bruce, because I didn't became Robin to fulfill any personal vendetta. I just wanted to make a diference, to fight evil and change the world into a better place.

-And now you have a vendetta to fulfill, is that so?

Again, half a laugh, more of a puff than a laughter.When he finally spoke, he didn't really answer his question, not directly, at least

-Everybody always told me that my strengh was my inteligence. That with my brain I could do anything. And I belived them, I really did. But it was not true. For all my inteligence was not good enough to save the ones I loved the most. So, to fight them I have to become stronger, to become faster, lighter...

-To fight who?

-The bad-guys, damn it! -Tim turned to face him finally and Dick realized his lip was trembling-. Dad is dead because I was fool enough to belive that I could make a better world, isn't he? So now I have to become what I told him I was, to make it up for him... to make it up for all of those whom I fooled...

Dick hugged the boy, who was shaking uncontrolably now.

-I'm a fake, Dick... a fake...

Tim started crying and all Dick could do was hug him tighter and stroke him, because he didn't know what to say to make the boy feel better. What could he say, if he still felt his parents death as if it had ocurred just yesterday?

Then, something made him to look over Tim's head. And there, at the door, was Bruce Wayne. He wore a blank expression, but it was as stating that the sky was blue. Bruce, when was being himself, always wore a blank expression.

The man walked to them and put his hand over the head of the boy, softening his expresion as Tim lifted his head and searched his embrace with a high sob.

-You did make a diference, Tim -he told the boy while his strong arms folded around his smaller frame-. You became Robin not for a personal vendetta, but to save my soul from my own darkness. You became light where we were darkness. Where we wanted to get free of our pain, you wanted a better place to live on. We don't need just Robin, we need you -a sad smile crossed his lips-. Someone has to provide a life for us all.

The sobbing increased, nearly histerically and Dick decided to retire to the restroom and give them some space. He had done his part, now it was up to Bruce.

III.-

Kon'el... Or Conner Kent, as he was beginning to grow acostumed to be called, was working in the field. Well, the Kent's were not the kind of people you want to disappoint, really... and neither was Superman. So he was trying to harvest without using his powers and trying to enjoy it. This last part was the most difficult of it all.

"Good hand work is good for rising a soul".

Yeah, yeah... whatever.

It was so boring he could have taken Krypto for a walk.

When Martha came searching for him he had done half the fields, and wishing seriously it was saturday and he could move from Cowvillage for a while.

-Conner, darling, some friend of yours is waiting in the kitchen.

-Who?

He jumped out of the harvester. He couldn't think of anyone at High school coming to see him out of the blue, but it was something else to do.

-He said it was a surprise.

Startled, Kon half ran to the kitchen, where his friend was talking to Jonathan. He began to stand up as soon as he heard the door opening.

Well, it was a surprise...

-Tim?

Timothy Drake smiled apologetically.

-I know you probably have things to do... but I need to talk to you and I though I could just drop by...

Things to do? With him coming to Smallvile just as if they were neighbours? Sure.

He looked at uncle Jon and aunt Martha, but they were just smiling simpathetically. So he led Tim through the door to the back field, to enjoy the sunset and the smell of cows and straw. He was waiting for his friend to speak when he noticed that Tim was avoiding his direct gaze.

-It's everything all right, Tim? -He dared to ask, finally.

-No, but it's better than the last time you checked... and I guess I should thank you.

-I don't unders...

-Nightwing. You called him, didn't you? -He finally looked at him, amused-. It's ok. I'm not mad, or anything.

-I didn't...

-I said I'm not mad...

-But it's true! I didn't call Nightwing, I called Batman.

-Bat... -Tim looked as if he was out of words for a second and then he burst into laughing-. The cheater! He let me belive he had this perfect timing! -He sobered himself, but his eyes still held his good mood for a while. It was nice being able to read them actually, instead of guessing behind a mask-. Anyway, I was a total jerk and you were right... and I'm glad you were there for me.

-Well, you were there for me -was all Kon could say. He felt a bit out of place with this kind of sharing conversations.

-Yeah, I guess.

At least it seemed to be as weird for Tim.

-It's what friends do.

-So they say.

They were silent for a while, listening to the buzz of night insects and feeling the breeze. That's was more of a macho thing, yes...Watching the sun go down in silence with your best mate...

-I want to go see Dana -said Tim finally-, but I think I'm petrified. Totally and utterly terrified -he half smiled without a hint of humor-. It figures, I can fight human bugs but cannot face the grief in Dana's eyes.

He was again averting his gaze.

-Do you want me to go with you?

-Will it sound really childish if I said "Please"?

Kon put an arm around Tim's shoulders and found him a little skinnier without his armored suit. His friend trembled, putting himself toghether, and let out a heartfelt sigh. Conner was probably not as smart as him, but he knew something that was going to be good for him.

-I'll tell you what we'll do. You are going to stay the night here, at Lametown, and you are going to enjoy one of Martha's meals. She is a great cook. And tomorrow morning, we will head to Dana's, ok?

-Sounds like a plan -Tim smiled weakly.

-And, in the meantime, you are going to help me harvest the crops.

-What? I don't have the least idea as how to...

But Kon was already dragging him to the dreadful and boring harvester. You know what the Kent's said: "Good hand work is good for rising a soul".


End file.
